


The Long Wait

by Benfrosh



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Science Fiction, and then added a bit of benfrosh, filtered it through shenmue, i took a twitter suggestion, working on a dock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 00:31:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11024820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benfrosh/pseuds/Benfrosh
Summary: Barry is waiting for his friend. Any day now he'll arrive. Randy doesn't believe it, but.





	The Long Wait

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ignifratres](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Ignifratres).



The first day, Randy heard a loud fwump from behind him and saw a flash of light illuminate the area around him. He turned around to look, but only saw a man in a blue hoodie and denim jeans sitting on the edge of the pier. Randy thought he was a homeless person camping on the docks. He considered chasing him off, but decided against it - the day was too busy and the man wasn't harming anyone.

The second day, Randy was getting concerned. The man hadn't moved from his spot overlooking the water, legs hanging over the water. Randy thought once more about chasing him off, and decided against it. 

The third day, Randy realized that this guy was going to be a problem, even if - no, especially because the man _still hadn't moved_. So Randy walked over to his spot on the pier, sat down next to the man, and let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "Sorry, sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to-"

"Barry," came a clean, crisp voice from deep within the raised hood of the unmoving man. 

Randy coughed. "Sorry, what?"

"My name is Barry." Barry raised his gloved hand to Randy without turning to face him. "May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

Randy hemmed and hawed. His training as dock manager didn't prepare him for this at all. Well, he thought, what's the harm. "The name's Randy," he replied, taking the proffered hand and giving it a shake, surprised by the strength from what he assumed was an ailing homeless person. "Sorry, but as I was saying, this area's for employees only. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

A pause. Randy had really been hoping that would do the trick. He pulled his kerchief from his shirt pocket and dabbed at his brow. The weather seemed even hotter than it had before.

"Ah. That is most unfortunate to hear," Barry finally replied, his voice unchanged. "Is there any way we can negotiate a way for me to stay here? It's most important."

Randy shook his head. "Sorry, sir. It's just, lot of stuff coming through here, we don't want anyone unauthorized touching the cargo."

"That is eminently reasonable." Barry paused once more, and Randy was again unsettled by his unnatural stillness. "Is there any chance I could work here? There would be no problem if I was an employee, correct?"

Randy opened and closed his mouth. He was going to laugh off the prospect, but... James had quit last week after the unpleasantness with his wife, and Steve hadn't been at the top of his game recently... "Can you lift?"

"Most definitely."

"Do you have ID handy?"

From within the pocket on his hoodie, Barry produced a passport. Randy took it and examined the info. Barry Goldwater, age 34, born in Springfield, Illinois, yada, yada, yada... "Illinois? You're a ways out, aren't ya?"

"Oh, quite a ways indeed."

"What's so important you need to hang out here so badly, anyways?" Randy asked, handing Barry back his passport.

"I'm waiting for a friend. He said he'd meet me here."

Randy laughed. "When the hell was he supposed to meet you? You've been here three days now."

Barry pulled up his arm and drew back his sleeve to look at a watch. For a second, Randy could swear that Barry's arm beneath the sleeve was metal. "Right now, in fact," Barry replied as he returned his sleeve to normal.

Randy looked around. Nobody besides the two of them was around. "Looks like your friend stood you up, then."

No response.

"You still want the job?"

Barry nodded.

Well, screw it, Randy decided. "Welcome to the team, Barry," Randy said cheerfully, holding his hand out. 

Barry took it and shook vigorously once more. Still Barry had not once looked Randy in the eye.

\---

Barry was definitely the strangest employee Randy had ever come across. Efficient, sure, there was no question. Hell, the efficiency was the first weird thing. Barry never slacked from a task, always did things promptly and with no complaints. Not a word out of place - a "Hello" in the morning as Randy came in, a "Good night" in the evening as Randy left, and that was that. Randy never saw where Barry went at night, and never asked. 

Now, Randy wasn't an idiot. His management night classes made sure of that. Barry wasn't like any _human_ Randy knew. And it only took a couple instances of hearing metal clanking steps when Barry was only wearing sneakers and a couple of loud clangs as Barry knocked on the large metal containers they processed every day for Randy to get awfully suspicious of the truth. But, end of the day, Randy decided it wasn't for him to know. Whoever built Barry could come for him eventually if they needed him, if Randy was right. And if Randy was wrong, then it'd be awfully rude of him to call Barry a robot. So he didn't.

And that was the extent of their relationship for the first week of Barry's employment. And the first month. And the first season. And the first year. And the first five years. And the first decade.

Randy never did find a new job. Dock manager was comfortable for him, and his life never really moved forward from that. Barry never quit, either. He was quietly paid in cash every two weeks, which went somewhere for something, and that was that.

And that was how it was that, seventeen years, six months, and eighteen days after they first met, Randy was surprised to find Barry sitting on the dock at the first place they met - the first break Barry had taken in his entire job as an employee. Randy, the responsible manager he had grown to become, went to check on him.

"Ah, hello," Barry greeted Randy, still wearing the same hoodie that he had on seventeen years ago. (Barry never asked why it had managed to stay intact for so long.) "Sorry for the break," he said as Randy sat next to him.

"No, no, it's okay," Randy replied, waving off Barry's concerns. "You've earned it. What're you up to?"

Barry nodded. "I'm thinking about time."

"Ah, yes, time." Randy nodded. He was always great at ignoring weird topics of conversation.

"Our times together. My time here. Your time here. The waves of time."

Time.

"Time... and our travel through it."

Oh. That's why Randy could never remember his childhood. That's why he was content working at a dead end, quiet, out of the way job. That's why his only friend was a robot from the future. "Aw, jeez, Barry, my bad, I'm so sorry."

Randy finally took his hood off to reveal his steel head and monitor camera. "Finally. You organics are so inefficient at time travel."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, the memory reconstruction is a delicate process, okay?" Randy shook out his head as his real memories came flooding back, flushing out the constructed emergency personality that was activated when the time travel destroyed his memories. 

"Well, at least this was accounted for in the original schedule. You do still have the original schedule, right?"

Randy flipped through his new memories, the briefings he received. "Yeah, I've got it. Should still be in my apartment."

"Let's go then. We have a war to stop."


End file.
